


What You Wish For

by Zanne



Series: Unhinged Winchesters [2]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, M/M, Necrophilia (implied)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-06-08
Updated: 2011-06-08
Packaged: 2017-10-19 22:01:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,632
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/205675
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zanne/pseuds/Zanne
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sam did his best to save Dean from the deal. It didn't turn out like he planned. </p>
            </blockquote>





	What You Wish For

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to [](http://caelumi.livejournal.com/profile)[ **caelumi**](http://caelumi.livejournal.com/)  and [](http://gestaltrose.livejournal.com/profile)[ **gestaltrose**](http://gestaltrose.livejournal.com/)  for beta-ing, though this one wasn't nearly as alarming as the last. This is the final unhinged Winchester story; it's more a slow descent into madness rather than a sudden snap like John and Dean. Kripke owns all and I make no profit. 

  
The door to the garage gave a hissing gasp before it rattled its way open, the clanking of the metal folding over Sam’s head announcing his entrance with a suitable cacophonous accompaniment.

He tugged on his tie, loosening the silk around his neck, and took a deep breath of the crisp air tinged with the scent of oil and metal, underscored with the faint hint of pine. Noting Dean’s shadowed figure in the Impala, Sam unbuttoned his coat as he opened the passenger door, sliding in easily beside his brother.

Sam laughed softly, running a hand through his hair and leaving it in tousled disarray as he leaned back against the seat, the coolness of the leather surprisingly sharp against his skin, even through the fabric of his suit. “That took longer than expected. I almost thought you’d leave without me.”

Dean said nothing, the Impala’s engine erupting in a rough growl before settling into its usual steady purr, Metallica spilling softly from the speakers. The car edged its way out of the garage, the sunshine suddenly flooding the interior with brightness, making Dean’s wide green eyes glitter sharply.

“It was just like you said. Go in with the _aw, shucks_ smile and then hit ‘em where it hurts. They caved within minutes. My flawless logic and irrepressible charm won them over in record time.” He tossed a grin in Dean’s direction. “I guess Stanford was good for something, after all.”

Sam unbuttoned his collar, taking deep lungs-full of air to clear his mind, letting all the unpleasantness of the day out with his next breath. “You would have liked his assistant. Just your type – dominating, yet efficient….” At the continued silence, Sam cast an assessing glance at Dean, studying him from the corner of his eye.

“Not talking to me?” Sam guessed, lounging in his seat with an irritated sigh, his legs sprawling open as he slumped against the door. He frowned, his brow furrowing with obvious annoyance. “This has to do with that whole Vatican thing, doesn’t it?”

When Dean didn’t answer, Sam rolled his eyes, turning to stare out the window at the scenery spinning by, almost hypnotized by the endless, empty fields stretched out around them.

“I had to do it,” Sam began firmly. “They were finally getting off their asses and mobilizing. They had cells in nearly thirty countries already. What was I supposed to do?”

Sam glanced over at Dean, his eyes tracing along his brother’s jaw as Dean’s body rocked stiffly with the movement of the car. “Let them do their jobs? And where would that leave _us_?”

He huffed out a frustrated breath, biting his lower lip before continuing in a rush, “What do you mean it has nothing to do with us? Everything I do is for us – for _you_. I promised to look out for you. Just let me...” Sam sighed, rubbing at a spot between his eyes before adding tersely, “I need to do this.”

Not wanting this to spill into another endless argument, Sam turned to stare out of the window again, his eyes narrowing when the fields flickered oddly before snapping into the steady stream of open farmland once more.

“Don’t be mad, Dean. I don’t want us to fight. I hardly get to see you anymore.” Sam turned his gaze to his brother, his hand reaching out to rub Dean’s thigh. A peaceful expression settled over Sam’s face for the first time at the feel of his brother’s firm flesh under his hand and he squeezed lightly, suggesting with a hopeful smile, “Let’s go see Bobby. How’s that sound?”

A sudden sharp ring cut through the peaceful interior of the car, causing Sam to curse under his breath as he dug into his pocket. “Forgot to turn this God-damned thing off.” He glanced at the caller ID and hit the mute button, turning apologetically towards his brother. “Gotta go, Dean. I’ll try to visit later this week. I hope you won’t still be mad.”

Sam leaned over, brushing his lips across Dean’s cheek as the Impala suddenly stopped, the engine cutting off mid-roar. The fields snapped back to the familiar oil-scented garage as Sam stepped out of the car, a bowed, grease-stained man rushing up to rub his fingerprints off the sleek skin of the Impala until it glimmered like black glass.

Sam smoothed back his hair, not bothering to look down at the creature following behind him as he made his way to the mirror installed by the door. “Fix the vid-screen or I’ll fucking have your head,” Sam stated evenly. The black-eyed demon hunched lower, bobbing its head in agreement as it began to shine Sam’s shoes.

Sam untied his tie, beginning the process over again to smooth out the wrinkles. “And good job with the arrangements. Could barely see the fishing twine keeping his hands on the wh…” Sam paused, unable to continue as his fingers faltered with his tie.

“Need help, boss?” Ruby asked wryly, leaning against the door.

“ _Get out_. I told you that you weren’t welcome here.”

Ruby shrugged carelessly. “Didn’t answer my call. Had to check up on you.” She cast him a leering grin. “I know it’s a sacrilege to interrupt your alone time with De-…”

“Don’t you _dare_ say his name,” Sam hissed, turning amber-tinted eyes in her direction.

“That wasn’t part of our deal. The deal was that his body remain unmarked.” She made a mocking moue with her lips, her eyes swimming with false sincerity. “How gallant, Sam, trying to save Dean from the pain of his own death; after all, those Hellhounds _really_ like to dig in when they’ve latched onto their target.” She arched an eyebrow in Dean’s direction. “How’s that workin’ for him?”

She crossed her arms over her chest with a subtle smirk, studying Sam as he buttoned his suit coat and straightened his lapels. “Or should I ask how that’s workin’ for _you_?”

Sam didn’t consider that worthy of an answer as he tried to get a stray cowlick to lie obediently in place, shooing the crouched demon away with a less than gentle shove from his newly shined shoe.

“Do you really think it’s professional to still be pissed at me?” Ruby asked with a smile. “It’s been eight years already. You wiped out the entire fourth level of Hell after you took over, looking for a way to break his contract – nothing like a little demonic genocide to rile up the little people. But as you found out, even the CEO of Hell can’t break a binding contract, and Dean’s was more than binding. So sorry, _boss_.” Her grin made her look far from sorry, but Sam continued to ignore her.

“At least now I get the joke about Hell and lawyers. You need them to do all the paperwork,” Sam stated dryly. He stood back to study the result of his efforts in the mirror, turning slightly to make sure he was still presentable for business.

“You know you don’t have to keep it so cold in here, don’t you?” she continued. “It’s not like it’s going to rot. No damage can be done to the body - as you discovered when you tried to burn it all those times.”

“What can I say? I don’t trust you.” He studied his reflection, eyes darting to the left where Dean’s blurry image rested just over his shoulder and a small smile ghosted over Sam’s face. “They say saints are incorruptible….”

Ruby gave a rude snort, unsuccessfully passing it off as a sneeze when Sam’s steady gaze swept over her before returning to scan his image once more.

After picking a final piece of lint off his jacket, Sam ordered casually, “Set him up in the bedroom next time.” He turned his gleaming eyes in Ruby’s direction, adding with a warning growl. “And no interruptions.”

“You know I can always get someone to fill the vacancy,” Ruby began off-handedly. “Get one of the underlings to possess the body so you’re not talking to yourself like an idi-….”

Sam’s hand was around her throat before she could finish her thought, lifting her bodily and slamming her against the wall as he hissed in warning, “I _told_ you not to do that again.” He slammed her into the wall once more as a gentle reminder, red swirling through his amber eyes like blood diffusing through water. “Do you really want me to give you another warning?”

Ruby’s black-eyed gaze widened for a moment as she slowly shook her head, dropping her eyes in a calculated display of deference.

At the sign of her acquiescence, Sam let her slide down the wall until her feet hit the floor, Ruby regaining her balance with the ease of an alley cat. Sam cupped her head in his hands, tangling her long curls through his fingers, and with a wary show of loyalty Ruby nuzzled slightly at his palm.

“So, so pretty,” Sam murmured softly, seemingly entranced by her silken blonde hair as it spilled over the back of his hands. His golden eyes met hers and he smiled, ordering evenly, “I want red next time. Dean likes red.” At that, his grip tightened and he twisted her neck with sharp snap, the mortal body slumping to the floor as the demon’s essence flowed out in a swirling black fog.

Sam headed out the door, the smoky ooze trailing after him like an obedient puppy as the clanking of the garage door heralded their exit. As the door slowly lowered in place, shadows edged their way across Dean’s still face, his wide eyes staring blankly forward as if taking in the scene until the entry closed with the familiar sealing hiss, leaving his unseeing eyes staring into blackness. 

  



End file.
